The Reincarnate
by rilihei
Summary: It wasn't her fault. The Rukh had a strange way of doing things— it wasn't her fault she failed to be reincarnated. Yunan x Oc.
1. Night Zero: Promise

**I have a good feeling about this story! Let's hope that feeling remains…**

**This was inspired by random prompt I came across on Tumblr— imagine one person skips several cycles of reincarnation while their significant other is reborn into each of those lifetimes with memories of their missing lover— because, unsurprisingly, the first character to come to mind was Yunan.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****_Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic._**

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**Night Zero: Promise**

* * *

The green grass spread out for miles across the starlit field. The stars above shone scarlet red, Alice blue, and snow white. The full moon watched the two teens from above, bathing them in it's pearly white, fluorescent radiance. The girl with the platinum blonde ringlets twirled, her thin arms flailing over her head, her lilac skirt taking on a dome-like shape. Her companion let out a light laugh, a smile gracing his feminine features.

Finally, a bit decisively, the girl fell onto the soft bed of grass surrounding them, her arms extended to her sides— a gesture that reminded her friend of a bird spreading it's wings for flight. Letting out a soft sigh, she lifted her right arm to the sky, her hand spread out with her palm facing the sky. She curled her fingers closed, as if imagining herself grabbing the star overhead in her dainty hand.

"Yunan, do you think we'll meet again?"

His head lolled to the side, fazed by her question. Nevertheless, he replied like he always did, even if his reply couldn't be classified as an answer— for she had a natural curiosity that was better left satisfied for a moment than left unattended entirely.

"Why? Are you planning on going somewhere?"

She let arm fall back to her side and glanced over at him. "No," She returned her gaze back to the stars. "I mean… After we die. Do you think we'll meet again? In a new life?"

She pulled herself into a sitting position before he could answer. "Would we still be friends? I mean— Yunan. If I died, the world would continue to move along as if nothing had happened. But you're—"

"My status as a Magi doesn't change anything," He cut her off with soft-spoken words. "And of course we'll meet again."

The girl met his eyes. "Promise?"

"Promise."


	2. Night One: Her Name is Duban

**Please note that there isn't a romantic relationship between the Ocs introduced this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Magi.**

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**Night One: Her Name is Duban**

* * *

Duban Asyut had made herself comfortable a mere meter away from the edge of the roof and a deadly fall downwards. Her muse ruffled its feathers noncommittally and hopped slightly, causing Duban to tense in fear that the small bird would fly off. With a soft intake of breath, she continued to draw the creature's grayscale twin with determination. Though the bird's wings were continuously shifting as it preened, they were immobilized in thick black pencil on the heavy cream paper of her newest journal.

Blowing a strand of white hair out of her line of vision, she soon found herself engulfed in her work— soothed by the soft scratch of pencil on paper. The voices of her parents were muffled in the distance, though they were rising as they get more and more consumed in whatever heated argument they had gotten themselves into.

That was when the sound of a nearby voice broke her concentration.

"You're a good artist."

She immediately dropped her pencil and jerked, hair flying around her as she scrambled away from the source of her shock.

The bird took to the skies almost instantaneously, startled by the girl's sudden movements.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you or your little friend," The apology was soft-spoken and— despite how humorous her reaction was— sounded sincere and unwavering.

"It's… fine," Duban says breathlessly, looking up at the individual.

"Sorry," They repeated, shifting awkwardly and looking away just as she began to observe them.

A young man dressed in peculiar green attire stood roughly two feet away from her, with pale skin and a long braid and a hat that looked vaguely similar to that of a Magician's.

"Who—," Her green eyes scanned over him once again. "—Are you?"

"I'm Yunan."

"I'm Duban," She said in reply, pulling herself up.

Duban was a petite girl; her clothing consisted almost entirely of an off-the-shoulder white top that didn't quite fit her and matching flats. She wore a vermillion sash in her hair, which tied into a bow at the nape of her neck. White hair, dark skin, and green eyes were common features of the citizens of Heliohapt; all of which she possessed.

"That's a nice name," He finally commented, giving her a slight nod of approval. He was leaning against a long wooden staff, one that only drove her curiosity forward.

"Are you a Magician?"

"Not particularly," Yunan watched the girl's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "I have to go, but I hope you'll finish that picture. It's quite beautiful."

"Thank you… I think? Wait—," She glared at him, her face flushed in both frustration and embarrassment. "Where're you going?"

"It's better if you didn't know."

"Will you come back?"

"Maybe."

"Promise me that you will."

Yunan's eyes widened a fraction at her request; she could now tell that they were a radiant blue color.

"Promise that we'll meet again," She closed her eyes and held out her hand expectantly, bowing her head awkwardly with a blush dusting over the bridge of her nose.

"Promise?"

A moment of silence ensued.

Her blush began to deepen and she began to peek open one of her eyes, but the ghost of his hand over her own startled her.

"I promise that we'll meet again, Duban."

She lifted her head, but found that she was staring at nothingness.

Though her eyes soon locked onto the blindingly white, fluttering, bird-like creatures left in Yunan's stead— creatures she would later know as Ruhk— for the first time.

* * *

Duban's room was a riot of color: white sheets and a fiery orange bedspread draped over a pallet on the floor, a vanity table with chipped red paint supporting a cracked mirror and strewn with journals pushed against the far wall, pots of various shapes and sizes randomly placed around the room and filled with colorful paints, and a canary-yellow sheet draped over the window as a makeshift curtain.

This description, of course, was excluding the smooth rock walls of the bedroom that she'd turned into her canvas due to her lack of paper in recent years.

Akhenaten hesitated to enter the threshold, sitting in the stone windowsill with a passive look plastered on his face.

Though the room was so small and cluttered— which Duban called 'organized chaos' of all things— she had moved around the room with gentle and soft movements that resembled a dancer. She returned to the room within moments, having snatched up a ceramic pitcher and proceeding to pour a small portion of the contents held within into a matching cup.

She held it out to him, seemingly oblivious to his flinch as the liquid almost splashed over the rim of the glass.

He peered down into the cup with discouraged eyes; it was full of a cloudy olive liquid that steamed slightly. It smelt of herbs and something that the child couldn't put his finger on, but it was certainly rich and strong and quite possibly bitter.

"C'mon, Akhenaten," Duban coaxed with a soft smile, nudging the glass closer to him.

"It'll make you feel better."

"Last time I drank it, I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth for a whole week."

"Last time you drank it, you didn't have a coughing fit for three whole months."

He cast a glare in her direction before returning his gaze to the cup.

Finally, squeezing his eyes shut, he took the cup and downed the mixture. The cup was handed back to her with shaky hands, with Akhenaten clutching his throat and sticking out his tongue in a comical fashion.

"You try being more careful," He said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, a scowl showing on his face.

Duban's eyes widened a fraction at the small boy, opening her mouth to question his words. "Magicians aren't safe. They're getting drafted to serve the noble families," Akhenaten whispered the words softly, as if they were words that should never be spoken aloud. "You could get drafted— so you should be more careful."

* * *

"So how'd they take it? Your parents," Akhenaten asked, hands stuck in his pockets as he escorted Duban to the outskirts of the district.

She shrugged. She had spent the previous night trying to talk herself out of leaving, silently begging her parents to give her a reason to stay. But her father preferred to keep himself holed up in his study and her mother was far too concerned with the state of her shop.

"I left a note," She said passively, staring up at the dawning sky. Her grip tightened on the strap of the bag she had stuffed multiple things into— a few articles of clothing, a relatively fresh journal, small packages of herbs and a set of paint… Packing was a challenge when she had no idea as to how long she'd be gone. "I doubt they'll notice."

"That's not true," Her companion mumbled, kicking up dirt with his feet. The package of medicine she'd given him weighed heavily in his pocket, with a note stuck into the package along with instructions on how to make the concoction himself.

Duban was only his senior by seven years— with him being fifteen and her being twenty two— but she seemed as though she possessed knowledge far beyond her years.

The boy took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. The air was morning-cool and the streets were empty, but that did little to help his worrisome streak.

"You could stay here," Akhenaten over at her. "I don't think the noble family you'll be placed with will be all that bad. Even if they were, you could handle it. You're powerful and wise and clever and—"

"I'm not going to serve people I've never met," She subconsciously quickened her pace. "I know you don't want me to leave— and I'm sorry— but I cannot and will not stand for this."

"So you're just going to leave? You're just going to run off to Reim and try your luck?"

"That's the plan," She said with a huff.

She was going to leave Heliohapt and _no one_ was going to change her mind.


	3. Night Two: The Wanderer

**I'm back, new updates are coming, and the end of this chapter was rewritten (as of 5/16/16).**

**Yes, these chapters will be relatively short! And Yunan will be less OOC soon (hopefully).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic.**

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_**Night Two: The Wanderer**_

* * *

She'd had another restless night of half-dreaming; strange involuntary visions that sometimes haunted the foggy space between awake and asleep, but were far from distinguishable.

Every part of her screamed that she shouldn't be leaving, but she had promised herself that she wouldn't look back. She takes a few thirsty breaths of air. With each heavy step, she feels sturdier and less off-balance.

The terrain within and surrounding Heliohapt was flat, dull, and nearly lifeless. But it hadn't taken long for Duban to grow comfortable with the movement of the sand beneath her, albeit accompanied with her aching legs and the soles of her feet burning. Her legs hurt, her feet hurt, everything hurt— even her cheeks were stinging.

Duban still had no clue as to where she was going, much less what she was going to do once she arrived.

She hadn't noticed how heavy her bag was until she was passing by a sign along the road— one that read 'Heliohapt' with a little arrow pointing in the opposite direction down the path to guide caravans. Despite her previous doubts, Duban felt a burden being lifted off of her shoulders as she passed by that sign; that faded, crooked sign that shook from side to side with every gust of wind.

The fact that she was officially out of the Kingdom of Heliohapt was a relief to her. She wouldn't be serving a noble family against her will. She wouldn't have to cope with her parents— both of which were lost in uniquely dysfunctional methods of denying that anything was amiss within their small family.

"Where're you going?"

Duban whipped around, nearly losing her foothold in the loose sand. The wind that occasionally rolled in from the desert was warm; she felt it against her face and her arm went up to block the oncoming gust that would bring a light sting of sand. Though she was squinting, her green eyes were darting about the road she had just traveled along; but even if there were footprints, the wind had covered them in those few seconds.

"Hello?"

Her arm fell back to her side, with Duban giving her head a light shake to assure that she had gotten the majority of the sand out of her hair. A frown graced her features as she turned on her heel.

"Up here," That was her cue to whip back around, this time sliding back a little in the sand, with her head going from side to side before tilting upwards in search of the voice.

She was greeted with the familiar— yet unfamiliar— sight of peculiar green clothing, a long braid, fair skin, and vibrant blue eyes. Wearing a hat that looked vaguely like a Magician's and balancing himself against a long wooden staff, an old acquaintance smiled at her.

"I promise that we'll meet again, Duban."

Duban opened her mouth to question his presence, but darkness claimed her before she could make a sound.

* * *

Colors swirled up against the darkness behind her eyelids. She felt a pressure, a drawing pull in her head and hands and feet. Her eyelids felt dry and when she tried to open them, she discovered that her vision was doughy. She automatically reached up to rub her eyes.

"Be careful," A soft voice warned. "You just woke up, after all."

Her eyes flew open, their dryness forgotten for the time being. Her hands still went up to rub her eyes, though she soon realized that she was— in fact— not hallucinating; and with a firm poke to his forearm, she confirmed that he was not a mirage, either.

"Yunan?"

"Yes?"

She got up from the ground, using the road sign that she had been propped against, presumably by the young man hovering near her, to pull herself up.

"Be careful—"

"I know that! I—," She was beyond flustered; she hadn't realized until after meeting him the first time that they'd only talked about meeting again and how he thought her painting was nice. "—I need to go."

"But you don't know where you're going, yet," He stated simply.

Duban stared at him momentarily before her eyes narrowed into a glare. "How would you know," She huffed. "You don't even know me!"

"You're Duban."

"I'm being serious," She snatched up her bag and began walking before turning back awkwardly upon seeing Heliohapt in the distance. "You don't know me."

"I've know you for quite a while," Yunan muttered softly, averting his eyes from the white-haired woman.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, raising a credulous eyebrow. "What was that?"

"Nothing," He answered, offering her a soft smile of reassurance.

Duban continued walking for several minutes, with Yunan looming over her with his shadow guaranteeing that she knew of his presence the entire time.

"Where are you going?"

"Remano," Duban answered, marching forward. "I'm going to take up a job as a herbalist."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you know how to get there?"

Duban tensed, pausing her movements.

She hadn't thought this through. In reality, no planning had gone into her journey. She'd simply assured Akhenaten and braced herself before storming out of the country.

"You have no idea where you're going," Yunan gasped dramatically, peering over the girl's shoulder.

"I'll figure it out," Duban laughed nervously. "It can't be that hard."

"You'll be travelling through multiple countries," The man continued. "Girls get kidnapped that way. As a matter of fact— you don't really see a lot of female Heliohaptans anywhere other than in Heliohapt."

He was right. Duban glared at her feet. He was right.

"What do you think I should do," She asked.

"It just so happens that I have the map to Remano memorized—"

"You have to be kidding me—"

"I know it by heart," He smiles. "You seem like you'd be a good travel companion, too."

"So," Duban rakes a hand through her hair. The desert surrounding Heliohapt has never felt more suffocating to her. "You're going to take me to Remano?"

"You said it, not me," His eyes are full of excitement. "You're going to love it."


	4. Night Three: Desert Dunes

**After more than a year of not updating, I come to you with this. In other news, I'm helping a few of my friends with a story titled 'The Legend of the Seven Idiots,' which can also be found in the Magi fanfiction archive. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Magi does not belong to me.**

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_**Night Three: Desert Dunes**_

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The heat of the desert combined with the shock of Yunan's spontaneous appearance had caused Duban to faint. Only a few hours had passed since he'd agreed to take her to Reim, and she already had a pounding headache.

It didn't take them long to fall into a pattern as they moved.

When the path made by caravans had disappeared, covered by sand, Duban realized that it took a lot less energy to stay in the small valleys between the dunes when possible. She began cutting a slower, yet less exhausting zigzag route across the desert.

"I thought you said you knew how to get out of the desert," She panted, tugging at the scarf she'd tied around her neck. It was doing little to keep the sand from hitting her skin.

"I said I knew how to get to Reim," Yunan responded from behind her. "There's dozens of ways to leave the desert."

As Duban walked, the towels she'd tied around her shoes began to loosen and grains of sand slipped in and got caught between her toes. The soles of her feet were burning yet again and a cramp was threatening to overtake her right foot. Her legs ached and her thighs would burn as they rambled up yet another dune, and her shins would cry out as they descended down the other side.

Duban suddenly regretted not taking up Akhenaten's offer of silly fitness routines the previous year.

Yunan, on the other hand, appeared to take it all in stride. His only worry was keeping his large hat upon his head. Had it not been for his flushed face and a light sheen of sweat visible on his pale skin, she wouldn't have been able to tell he the heat was getting to him.

She refused to complain. She panted a great deal, and she swiped at the sweat drops on her temples, and she clenched her jaw against the pain in her legs. But she refused to complain.

Duban's headache was beginning to worry her. If she would close her eyes for a second too long, vertigo would set in almost immediately.

Panic would blossom at the base of her spine and crawl up until she was sure each new step would bring her crashing to the ground.

"Do you need to take a break?" Yunan asked. "The sun is beginning to set, it'll be bad if you lose consciousness when it gets dark."

A wave of vertigo hit her as she tilted her head back to look up at the sky. The sky was already filled with red and golden hues, the sun gradually disappearing below the horizon.

"No point in passing out from exhaustion," He stated, his voice possessing a concerned tone.

"No," She breathed. "We're almost to the top of this dune. I'm fine."

Duban breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the top of the dune, but dread quickly overtook her. The world around them was made of more dunes, more sand, more nothingness.

She didn't know why she had thought this dune would be different from the dozen others they'd clambered over— she didn't know why she had thought this one would have marked the end of their journey across the desert.

"You know what," She breathed, her knees wobbly. "Lets take a break."

* * *

"Shouldn't we ration it?"

"No," Duban took the bottle of water from Yunan. They continued climbing the dune as she continued. "It's best to drink it when we're thirsty, and just try to keep the sweating to a minimum— our bodies will be able to remain hydrated better that way, even if we run out of water."

Spending the night in the desert had been an awful experience, and neither of them had gotten a wink of sleep. They'd merely attempted to stay warm and look out for insects, as well as the other creatures that hunted in the desert at night— such as bandits.

Duban had awoken to a dizzying assortment of sensations. Her legs throbbed and her feet ached. Her skin felt dry and scratchy, her lips brittle. She'd pulled herself up, shaking sand off of her clothing with little success, and declared that they needed to start moving before the sun had risen.

"We should also avoid eating until we find another water source, digestion uses up a lot of— do you see that?"

"What?"

She gaped at the glorious sight, struggling to find words to describe it. Blue and green and bustling with a little life, a stark contrast against the white sand of the barren desert.

After ages of delirious, mind-numbing progress through the sand, the sky to the east was beginning to brighten and she could see the landscape beginning to change ahead.

"The water and— the trees!"

"The oasis?"

"Yes! There's buildings and everything!"

They'd been so wrapped up in their conversation that Duban hadn't noticed the oasis, the true end of the desert. Relief spilled over her.

Yunan had been aware of the upcoming village for roughly an hour, but had kept it to himself.

"Well," Yunan adjusted his hat, looking at the brightening horizon. A light blush dusted his cheeks. "That's nice."

"What's wrong?" Duban tilted her head to the side as she walked forward, preparing to slide down the dune. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, it's just—" Yunan glanced over at her before looking down at his feet. "— It's just, I'm not much of a people person."

Duban paused, her hands sliding in the sand as she began her descent. She looked up at the man with skeptical eyes.

"You offered to take me— a person who you don't even know, a complete stranger if you will— all the way to Remano," She began laughing, nearly losing her foothold in the sand. "And you're choosing to be shy _now_ of all times?"

"I _do_ know you though," Yunan said in his own defense, watching her slide to the bottom of the dune.

She stands to dust herself off, looking up at him. "Really?"

"Yes," He huffed, beginning his own descent. "You're Duban, we've already been over this."

"You're ridiculous, Yunan!"

"No," Yunan sits at the bottom of the dune for a moment before readjusting his hat yet again. "I'm fragile."


	5. Night Four: The Oasis

**An update? This soon? Yes.**

**On another note, I'm finally caught up with SnB, and the Magi fandom is burning because of Night 314 (people are being **_**very**_ **immature). This story will possibly include spoilers for the manga later on, but I'll warn you when that time comes.**

**Disclaimer: Magi does not belong to me.**

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_**Night Four: The Oasis**_

* * *

They reached the oasis not long after the sun had risen to hover directly overhead in the sky.

Duban didn't hesitate to begin pulling off the towels and blankets she'd tied around herself to keep the sand from hitting her skin as they traveled. However, as she was pulling the first blanket from around her neck, a comically large amount of sand fell to the ground.

Sweat trickled down the side of her face and her exposed skin felt surprisingly itchy, her off-the-shoulder Heliohaptan tunic feeling foreign and uncomfortable.

It wasn't until they'd walked past a group of ogling children that Duban realized the few townspeople— there couldn't have been more than twenty people living in this small oasis— had been staring at them as they moved through the oasis in search of an inn.

"I wonder how many people come out of the desert _alive_," Duban mumbled, handing Yunan her bag so that she could carry the towels and blankets better. "They look so surprised."

"That's not what caught their attention," Yunan scanned her figure as he took the bag.

"Is it really that strange to see a Heliohaptan outside of Heliohapt?"

"Well, yes," Yunan blushed. "But they're surprised that your chest is covered."

Duban tensed, a dark blush taking over her face as well. "What?"

"Even if you see a young Heliohaptan woman outside of the kingdom, they usually—"

"_I know that," _Duban hissed. She shifted the towels and blankets awkwardly, suddenly aware that they had stopped in the middle of the street.

She'd oftentimes been teased by other children during her childhood for choosing to keep her breasts covered. Despite having grown up with the customs of Heliohapt, Duban preferred to keep her chest covered like the older women. It was a personal preference. One that she had hoped would _never _be pointed out again.

She could hear the group of children— a trio made up of two boys and a girl— whispering behind them, their abrupt stop surely having caught the attention of the children.

"Should I," Duban moved the fabrics to one arm and pulled on the open collar of her shirt with her free hand. Her eyes narrowed with curiosity and resolve. "Should I take this off?"

"No!"

"But you said that's what—"

"You don't do it regularly, it'll be awkward if you—"

The heat was beginning to get to Duban yet again, pushing her to grow irritated.

"But it will keep them from—"

"It'll cause a scene!"

Duban drops the towels and blankets, bending over and grabbing the hem of her tunic. An expression of pure frustration and determination is plastered on her face as she begins to yank the clothing upwards. Yunan drops the bag, reaching forward with a blazing blush to pull Duban's arms back to her sides before she could get the clothing over her head.

"_Hey!"_

Duban pauses, the tunic only beginning to pass over her stomach as Yunan grabs hold of her left wrist. They both look behind them to see a tall man standing in front of the children.

"If you're looking for the inn," He's missing one of his front teeth. He points back in the direction they'd come from. "It's that way!"

* * *

The inn was owned by an older woman, with graying hair and a face that formed wrinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiled at them.

"Welcome! Would you like a room?"

"Yes," Duban stepped forward, reaching for the pouch of money she'd tied at her hip. She stumbled a little, struggling to keep her hold on the towels and blankets. "A room for two."

"Oh, you mean a room for a couple?"

"No," Duban replied slowly, placing the pouch on the counter. "A room with two beds."

"We don't offer that," The older woman began before she glanced over at the man who who had directed them to the inn. The man had been exchanging words with the old woman when Duban and Yunan had finally caught up with him. "Miss, you're from Heliohapt, correct?"

"Yes," Duban's eyes narrowed as the old woman beckoned her forward with the wave of her hand.

The old woman leaned over the counter, her voice taking on a raspy tone that Duban supposed was meant to be a whisper. "Did this man kidnap you?"

Duban reeled back from the woman and Yunan's jaw dropped open, looking beyond offended by the woman's statement.

"_No!"_

* * *

"I'm sorry it's so dusty. You can move the curtains if you'd like, and you'll have to go get water from the well out back for the bath. There's soap in the bathroom," The old woman watched the pair look around the room. It was clear that they were the only people staying in this inn, but they chose not to mention the lack of business. "If you need anything, come and get me. I won't be here at night though! You'll have to go get Emil from across the street."

Duban assumed that Emil was the man who had directed them to the inn— the one who had been missing one of his front teeth.

"Thank you," Yunan offers the woman a smile.

"Aah," The old woman gives him a pat on the arm before turning to leave the room. "Sorry for the trouble, sonny. I didn't mean any harm to you and your girl."

Duban and Yunan stand in silence as the door closes. It takes several moments for either of them to break the silence, and it's when Duban finally drops the bundle towels and blankets on the floor.

"I need to get rid of these, the sand ruined them," She says, moving to pull at her tunic. She doesn't miss Yunan's flinch when she fidgets with the fabric of her shirt; it would take a while for him to get over what had happened in the street. "I'll need to get rid of this too. It's itchy now. I need to take a bath and go find new—"

"I can do that," Yunan interrupts, a smile appearing on his face.

"Find me new clothes?"

"Yes," He nods excitedly. "And I can get rid of these towels and blankets too. I'll just need your sizes."

"Really?" Duban raises a suspicious eyebrow.

"Of course. Just leave it to me."

Duban sighs.

But she's too tired to ask questions as she begins to list off her clothing sizes to the man— the man who she still knew little about.

* * *

Yunan's clothes looked ridiculous.

Duban realizes this after she's gathered water from the well and taken a bath. She finds herself regretting sending the man to find her new wardrobe— if it could even be called a wardrobe.

She cleans up in the small bathroom, using the bar of hard lavender soap the old woman had been sure to mention. She dries herself with an off-white hand towel— the only thing she had aside from her itchy tunic and her skirt.

She pulls the loose skirt over her hips and up to her chest, wearing it as a makeshift dress until Yunan's return, hopefully with her new clothes in hand.

She sat on the bed, pulling her long damp hair over her shoulder— she made note that she'd have to cut it later.

Duban was out of Heliohapt.

The stone walls of the room weren't like the walls of her bedroom, the walls that she'd spent years painting. This room wasn't full of pots of paint and bundles of herbs. This room didn't feel like her home.

Duban truly was out of Heliohapt, and she doesn't understand why that realization gives her a sinking freeing in her stomach.

* * *

"Where did you get these?"

Duban runs her hands over the fabric of the dark purple pants, her eyes wide with shock. A dark purple overcoat with somewhat baggy sleeves, a white dress, two patterned sashes to wear around her waist and neck— Yunan had outdone himself.

"I made them," Yunan answers cheerfully, watching her hold on the pants tighten.

"What?"

"I made them," Yunan repeated. "I made them out of the blankets you gave me."

"How?"

"Magic."

"You told me you weren't a Magician."

Yunan tenses, his eyes widening in shock.

Duban sucks in a breath of air— was she not supposed to remember their exchange on the roof of her former home, years ago?

He sighs and a wave of relief seems to wash over him. A bright smile stretches across his face. "You remember that?"

"Well, yes."

"That's great! Do you remember anything else?"

"Is there anything else I should remember?"

His face falls and his smile disappears. Duban flinches, resisting the urge to take a few steps back. A soft smile reappears on Yunan's face a moment later.

"No, of course not," He says. He quickly redirects the topic back to the clothes. "Do you like them?"

"Yes," She replies, eager to change the subject.

Yunan's entire demeanor seemed to change when she had replied— and Duban reminds herself that she doesn't know him as well as he claims to know her.


	6. Night Five: Full of Questions

**Aah, I'm hoping Yunan's backstory will be revealed soon in the manga. Oh! I thought some of you would find this interesting if you weren't already aware: Duban is based on the character Duban from 'The Tale of King Yunan and the Sage Duban' from Arabian Nights. I'm actually extremely worried Ohtaka will make Duban into an actual Magi character for Yunan's backstory.**

**Special thanks to TimeturnerJasmy! Your reviews really brighten my day (I love every review, however).**

**NOTICE: The cover artwork is by Mugges on Tumblr. You can find other artwork I commissioned of Duban on my Tumblr, with the URL kiznais and my 'Duban Asyut' tag. Don't be afraid to PM me if you're curious.**

**Disclaimer: Magi does not belong to me.**

* * *

_**Night Five: Full of Questions**_

* * *

They'd finally made it out of the desert and yet, now that they were safely indoors and away from the nocturnal creatures that roamed the desert in search of prey— now that they finally had a soft bed to rest on, they lay awake side by side.

Duban blankly stared up at the ceiling, wiping a light sheen of sweat from her brow. Yunan was rolled over onto his side, facing away from her.

Had he not been humming, she would have been sure that he'd dozed off.

The room was beyond stuffy and the candlelight was the only thing that illuminated the space, given that Yunan had gone out of his way to cover the window. He didn't want to let bugs or animals of any kind into the room. The last thing they needed was a reason for the old innkeeper to charge them extra.

Duban stares at the ceiling for only a moment more before pulling her pillow out from under her and promptly throwing it at the wall.

Dust flew as the pillow made contact and Yunan flinched, nearly falling off of the bed as he struggled to look over his shoulder at her.

The bed made an awfully loud creaking noise as she stood.

Making her way to the pillow now resting at the foot of the bed, she inhaled deeply before beginning to violently stomp on it.

"What are you doing?" Yunan squeaked in bewilderment.

"Fluffing it," She responds, her eyebrows creased.

"Just take mine!"

"I've got this," Duban exclaims, ceasing her stomping to jump on the pillow. "I know what I'm doing—"

"All you're doing is getting it dirty!"

She steps back and picks it up off of the floor. The beige pillowcase is stained brown, and Yunan's nose crinkles in disgust as she begins to shake it, causing sand to loudly fall to the floor.

Duban throws the pillow back onto her side of the bed before throwing herself onto it. They both cringe as the bed lets out a series of creaks in protest.

She rests her chin on the dirty pillow case.

Several moments pass and Duban can feel Yunan frowning at her, upset that she didn't exchange pillows with him.

"I'm not sleeping," She says suddenly, detaching herself from the pillow and propping herself up on an elbow. He raises an eyebrow at her. "This bed is terrible. She probably doesn't have any business because the trash is more suitable for human life."

He laughs and she feels a smile pulling at her lips.

If she could get him to laugh, she could surely get him to reveal more about himself.

"Do you want to play a question game?"

"Question game?"

"You ask a question and I answer," Duban explains, pulling herself up entirely to sit with her legs crossed on the bed. "And then we do the same thing, but backwards."

"Do I have to answer the question that I ask you, too?"

"Nope," She answers quickly.

She already had her questions formulated.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't do any harm—"

"Great! I'll go first," Duban cut him off. "Are you a Magician?"

"Not particularly," He replied.

"That's what you told me last time," Duban frowned. "That's not a real answer, give me a better one."

"So picky," Yunan lightly teased. He offered her a light smile. "I'm glad you remember that. But I'm _not _a Magician, I promise."

"Really?"

"No," He said. "I'm a Magi."

Silence filled the room.

Duban stared at him, her cheek squished against her palm as he waited for a reaction of some kind.

And his eye twitched as she began laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"A _Magi_? Those don't exist," She said after calming herself. He suddenly looked irritated. "If you're going to lie to me, at least make it believable."

"I would never lie to you," Yunan said, his tone serious. His eyes were narrowed as he released a deep breath.

"Oh," She muttered, eyes wide. She scooted back towards the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't— I didn't mean to offend you, Yunan."

"It's fine," The man smiled, any traces of his seriousness gone. "You're going to fall off of the bed if you move back any further, though."

Duban's eyes widened and she moved forward, laughing nervously. Had she not known any better, she would have thought that Yunan's smile reflected sadness rather than reassurance.

"So, what do you mean by Magi—"

"That's another question. It's my turn to ask you one," Yunan interrupted her.

"What, I'm not allowed to ask follow-up questions?"

Yunan shook his head, shoving his thin braid over is shoulder. Duban frowned but remained quiet.

"Duban isn't a common name," Yunan says. "Is there a reason why you were named that?"

"That's a weird question," Duban states, eyes widening.

"The weird questions are always more enjoyable to answer."

"I suppose," Duban says, biting her lip. Her mother had told her about it once, and she'd ended up researching her namesake for months to come. "Well, I was named after someone."

"Oh?"

"The Great Duban. She was a philosopher from the west, several hundred years ago," Duban explained, her voice full of half-hearted enthusiasm. "My mother thought the idea of a female philosopher in that time period was amazing, and she named me after her. And it _is _amazing, Yunan. Duban is a legend, and we know so little about her life. She cured a king from leprosy and wrote novels and did led a revolt against her kingdom when she saw things weren't right. The story is— _she _is absolutely amazing. And I just—"

Duban trails off when she realizes that Yunan is fondly staring at her, a soft smile pulling at his lips. Her cheeks flush.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," He replies. "But you're right. It's an absolutely amazing story. I happen to know quite a bit about it."

"Wait, really?"

"I'll have to tell you about it sometime."

"Hold on just a damn minute," Duban says, overcome with the curiosity that still remained from her childhood. "I get to ask you a question next and I want to know more about the story. Heliohapt only had a small—"

"You're hungry," Yunan says calmly, sighing as he moves to get up from the bed. "This game is over for now."

"Wait—"

Duban's hand almost reaches his shoulder before her form goes rigid. The sound of her stomach growling makes her cringe, and her frown deepens when she looks back up at Yunan to find him walking towards the door, putting on his hat.

As strange as it seemed, he only removed his hat when getting ready for bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To get you food."

"I can wait until morning," Duban says, eyes wide. There was no way she was going to let Yunan go out of his way to find her food. Especially when he needed rest as much as she did at this point. "It's too dark outside anyways."

"It'll be fine."

She has a peculiar, panicky feeling in her stomach, like she wants him to stay and go at the same time.

"At least let me go with you—"

"No, you should try to rest," He laughs lightly, opening the door. "Besides, there's bound to be a few slave traders wandering around who would be rather interested in a Heliohaptan woman."

"They could still come here if they're that interested. I'm sure news of our arrival has spread throughout town by now, especially with the show that we put on."

"You need to rest."

"But Yunan, the vendors will all be asleep and—"

The door shuts.

Duban huffs, shoving herself off of the bed and making her way towards the door. It swings open and she looks down the dark hallway, already opening her mouth to call out his name.

But Yunan isn't in the hallway.

She finds herself awkwardly making her way back into their shared room before she begins seeing imaginary monsters form in the shadows.

* * *

Duban wakes up to the sound of yelling.

She sits up in the bed, trying her best to ignore the creaking noise as she rubs away her doughy vision.

Yunan opens the door just as she gets out of bed to wander towards the covered window. She smiles, weakly waving at him with her free hand.

He returns her smile, crossing to the foot of the bed and holding out a paper bag she hadn't noticed. She takes the bag and twitches when she feels heat radiating off of it.

"What's this?"

"Roasted mushrooms."

"Roasted what?"

"Mushrooms."

"What's that?"

"Sit down and I'll show you," His laughter is airy, and she notes that his movements are rather sluggish as he sits down at the foot of the bed.

He takes back the bag as she sits beside him, opening it. A strange mixture of smells filled the air. The most prominent being a weak spice she couldn't quite put her finger on.

He tilts the bag in her direction and she takes it as an invitation to stick her hand in.

"It's kind of slimy," She says, pulling out a mushroom and looking at it. Her lips tighten into a line as liquid begins to fall from her fingers to trail down her arm. "You didn't tell me they had juice!"

"That's just sauce."

"Oh," She finally bites into the mushroom, making a sound of protest as sauce begins to dribble down her chin. "This is messy."

"I got us a room in the next town over," Yunan says, quickly changing the subject. "We can get on a ship there. And we can't stay here for much longer."

"You went all the way over to the next town?" She states, taking another mushroom from the bag. "Yunan you need to sleep. The bed is awful but it'll have to do. And what do you mean we can't stay here?"

"The man that the innkeeper knows is arguing with a slave trader asking about a Heliohaptan that came out of the desert, right across the street," He explains. "I don't think that he'll tell, but they already think we were arguing last night."

"What?"

"When I was walking back in," Yunan yawns. She stands up to clean off her face and arm with one of the old towels she'd yet to discard. "The old innkeeper said we'd be able to 'work it out.' She tried to hug me, too."

A smile breaks across Duban's face.

"Okay," She says. "We'll leave when you wake up."

"What?"

"You need to rest."

"I'm fine."

"You're not leaving this room until you've at least taken a nap."

He sighs and hands her the bag of mushrooms, crawling up towards the head of the bed.

Duban watches as he removes his hat before settling down entirely.

"Is that all?"

"What?"

"Your hat. Is that all you remove to go to bed?"

"When I have company, yes."

"I don't mind," She pauses, realizing that her words could be taken in the wrong way. "I mean, I'm sure it would be nice to let your hair out of the braid."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Yunan sighs, sitting up and reaching for his braid.

She isn't sure how long she stands at the foot of the bed, holding a bag of mushrooms, watching as Yunan lets his hair out of its braid.

And she doesn't realize she's smiling until he lays back down, his long hair covering her side of the bed as he makes himself comfortable.


	7. Night Six: The Port Town

**You didn't sign up for inconsistent updates when you started reading this fanfic, but that's what you're getting and I apologize. Here's a super short chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Magi does not belong to me.**

* * *

_**Night Six: The Port Town**_

* * *

"That old woman tried to give me relationship advice when I was checking us out," Yunan said, shrugging one of Duban's bags onto his shoulder.

"_Really?"_

"Why would I joke about that."

"Sorry," Duban laughed, nearly dropping the single bottle she was filling with water. "She's a nosy one, isn't she?"

"Absolutely," He frowned, watching as Duban capped the bottle. "Are you sure that it's a good idea to only bring one bottle with us?"

"The next town is close and the sun hasn't even begun to rise yet," Duban explained. "We should be fine."

* * *

"Yunan," Duban said as she trudged through the sand behind him, wiping sweat from her brow with the scarf around her neck. "I think my feet are bleeding."

Yunan pauses, glancing over his shoulder at her. A moment later he's peering directly at her exposed feet— he'd used the towels she had wrapped around them to make her new attire. Her feet were exposed to the steadily warming sand and they were already rubbed raw from their trek from Heliohapt; they'd surely begin to bleed if they didn't reach the neighboring town soon.

The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, reflecting off of the town in the distance as if to guide them forward.

"Can you see blood on them?"

"No," Duban answered, shifting her feet in the sand slowly. "I don't know. They hurt. A lot. And I think I may have a fever."

He'd hoped that their rest in the inn would prevent her from becoming sick so easily when exposed to the desert once again, but it would appear that their stay had proven useless. They were well-rested and fed but that would do nothing to protect them from the harsh environment.

"Your fever might be from an infection."

"I know that," She scoffs, glaring at him.

"Or you're dehydrated," He handed her the only bottle of water they'd carried with them, they'd finally decided to buy more once they reached their next stop. He was beginning to regret that decision. "Drink all of that."

She paused with the bottle already tipped against her mouth, carefully, so as to not lose a single drop. It was a tempting offer. She could drink all of the water, but she'd be thirsty by the time they'd moved another twenty feet.

"_All _of it? What are you going to drink?"

"I've had my fill."

"We've only been walking for around two hours," She sighed. "You haven't had a sip from this bottle."

"I've had my fill," Yunan repeated, turning on his foot to continue walking towards the town in the distance.

She knew it wasn't true, but her tolerance for selflessness lessened as she began to drink the water, until she'd done as he asked and drank all of it. She placed the empty bottle into the pouch at her side.

"Liar," She mumbled, staring at his backside with a small smile as she walked after him.

And she was glad that Yunan didn't comment when she slipped in the sand and landed on her knees.

* * *

The first thing they see when they reach the town is a man pulling the carcass of an animal over his shoulder, it's spotted gray fur matted with blood and a large grin spread across the man's face.

If Duban wasn't already feeling sick, she felt downright _ill _after that experience.

The sun had risen directly over the town, and they were covered in sand once again, but attention was not drawn to them because of this. This town was far larger than the previous one, bustling with residents and slave traders and shopkeepers and caravans.

"So this is a port town?" Duban asked rather loudly so that Yunan could hear her, narrowly avoiding bumping into a woman as they weaved through the crowded market. "It's a lot different from the oasis."

"Yes, a lot of business flows through this one in particular," Yunan replied. "It's the only port town with an actual dock for miles."

Duban reaches for Yunan's wrist suddenly, pulling him to the left side of the crowded street towards a stall. Sandals lined the few shelves of the store and Duban felt her feet ache as she reached for the pouch of money at her side.

"Buy durable ones," Yunan warned, raising an eyebrow as she began to count her money.

"Of course," Duban said, returning his expression. "You don't think I'm going to buy the ones made out of strings and fake jewels, do you?"

It's hard to miss the offended look of the shopkeeper when Duban drops the coins into his open palm, grabbing a pair of thick-strapped sandals laying on the counter. She thanks the man before turning around and heading directly back into the crowd of people, and Yunan finds himself struggling to keep up with her.

"Duban, you're going to get lost," Yunan yells over the crowd, squeaking as a rather large man pushes him aside. "Be careful!"

She doesn't hear him, overwhelmed by the new faces and items that the town has to offer as she turns onto a different street. The street is less crowded and she pauses, glancing at her sandals and deciding that it would be a good time to put them on.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh," Duban gasped, a smile stretching across her lips as she looked up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get in your way, excuse me—"

Her eyes widened as she sees the group of people— a group of seven tall men. All dressed in pale-colored robes, thin fabric over their heads and pulled down around their chins to expose scarred faces. Large knives rested on their hips and it was difficult to not stare at the few cages behind them, containing several individuals.

These men were slave traders.

"_Hey, I thought Heliohaptan women liked showing a little skin?"_

* * *

"Duban, we need to go find an inn and it's dangerous to wander around towns like this," Yunan froze, his eyes going wide as Duban nearly backs into him as she walks away from the large group of men. "Who are they?"

"I—" Duban sucked in a shaky breath, reaching behind her and fumbling along his sleeve until she found his wrist and made a firm grip on it. "—think they're slave traders."

"Oh," Yunan said, staring at her hand. She was squeezing his wrist so tightly he could see the pale skin turning red beneath her grasp. "I don't think they'll want to talk."

"I don't think so either," Duban laughed breathily, her arms shaking.

"What should we do then?"

One of the slave traders reached for the knife at his side, grinning.

"I think that we should run."

Not a moment later had Duban whipped around and harshly shoved Yunan in the direction of the crowded street adjacent to them, sending them both nearly tumbling to the ground. Her hand is still tightly latched onto his wrist and he feels himself throwing out his hand, sending the group of slave traders flying backwards.

Duban was too surprised to scream as she was thrown into the air; her heart flew up into her throat and her stomach turned to water. She flung her hands out, trying to catch at something, anything that might slow her descent back towards the street and in the direction of the stunned group on the ground.

But she did not fall to the ground.

She simply floated over the rooftop of the building beside them— where she thumped onto the rooftop, hard, her hip and shoulder striking the stone. She rolled over, sucking the air back into her lungs. She was just beginning to sit up when a pair of feet landed beside her.

"Come on, get up," Yunan urged, pulling her up by her arm so quickly that she felt a wave of vertigo wash over her. "They can climb!"

And then they're running towards the opposite edge of the rooftop, Duban struggling to keep her balance as Yunan pulls her forward with urgency she'd never seen in his eyes before.


End file.
